


Lessons

by Million_Moments



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Music, Radio 4, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Million_Moments/pseuds/Million_Moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly Catherine realises things are shifting between her daughter and Richard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Piano Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I am rather plagued by head canon, I have ideas that I am really certain must be true even though we have no evidence for it in the series. As a consequence they will keep popping up in my stories. The first is that Richard went to Cambridge University. Don’t ask me why Cambridge and not Oxford, probably the influence of being from East Anglia and the fact Ben Miller went to Cambridge. One of my other head canon ideas is that Richard plays the piano. I figure he must have musical talent of some kind since he could detect a wrong note being played in series one episode seven. I can imagine him spending long hours at boarding school in the music practise room rather than outside. I apology for yet another story where I have him playing the instrument…

Catherine was attuned to her daughter’s many tones of voice, she imagined most mothers could pick up on the moods of their children in such a way. When she heard Camille approaching, she was using her ‘I’m trying to be patient but you are starting to annoy me just a bit’ voice, which meant she must be with her boss. She popped into the kitchen to put the kettle on, it was that time of day.

When she returned, she saw Richard frowning at her daughter’s old iPod touch, “This isn’t like when you showed me how to get BBC iPlayer to work abroad is it? I mean, this is legal right?”

Her daughter sighed theatrically, “Yes, Richard, it’s legal. It’ll automatically download the podcasts from radio four when you’re connected to Wi-Fi. And I maintain that if you’d paid for a TV licence then streaming the BBC from abroad would only be a little bit illegal.”

“There’s no such thing as a little bit illegal,” he muttered grumpily, but then gave her a small smile that both she and her daughter knew was his way of saying thank you.

She passed the boys beer, her daughter a rum cocktail and asked the Inspector, who was still fiddling with the device, “I assume you want tea, Richard?”

“Yes please,” he said without looking up. When he did, his attention was immediately drawn to the piano Catherine had spent a difficult morning trying to get set up in the corner of the bar.

“Gosh, is that a Boesendorfer 214?” he asked, walking over to it. Since it said Boesendorfer on the side Catherine could only assume he was right, she hadn’t actually asked.

“I borrowed it from the school, since its shut for the summer. My cousin is coming and she sings and plays in Paris, she agreed to play here a little.”

He was now looking at the instrument with something akin to sentimentality. “I learnt to play on a Boesendorfer,” He said mildly, before walking away and sitting down to take his tea.

Fidel asked the question, as Dwayne really didn’t care about anything but his beer at that moment and Catherine and Camille were busy staring at Richard like he’d just declared something far more shocking, “You can play, Sir?”

“Only a little,” he told Fidel. The lack of expansion on the topic clearly indicated he didn’t want to talk about it, but Catherine was delighted.

“Oh then you must play something for us, Richard!” she cried elatedly.

“Oh no, really I couldn’t,” he said, stirring the tea excessively and staring at the table.

“Why not?” Camille piped up, clearly also keen for a demonstration of his newly revealed talents.

“I haven’t played in ages, so you know…” He shrank a little under the suspicious look Camille had levelled him with, and Catherine felt a little sorry for him. She didn’t understand how he’d be quite happy to ramble on and reveal a murderer in front of a crowd but get all shy when asked to play the piano in a bar whose current occupants only consisted of his friends.

“Maybe just something small,” she tried. “You know, and you could tell me if maybe the piano got out of tune when we moved it.”

This seemed to abate his nerves a little, at least the poor tea cup wasn’t being abused by the teaspoon anymore, “I don’t think I can remember anything too complicated off by heart…” he said slowly, and she knew she was bringing him round.

Camille was looking at him expectantly, and that was the last bit of encouragement he needed. He sighed just as dramatically as Camille had earlier, put his cup down and went over to the instrument. Catherine leaned against the bar, she suspected Richard was more Chopin than _Der Flohwalzer_ or Chopsticks but she couldn’t be certain what he’d come out with.

She certainly didn’t expect him to make her cry. She didn’t really have a valid excuse for why, a few minutes into a piece she did not recognise in the slightest but decided was her new favourite ever, she got a bit teary. If Richard thought that was being able to play ‘a little’, she wondered who he thought was actually good. She supposed she was just being sentimental, and more than a little amazed that a man who was so proper all the time could actually play with a passion that moved people. Even Dwayne had stopped drinking his beer in amazement.

The piece came to its natural conclusion, and Richard frowned at the keyboard, “It’s in tune though this C# key is a bit sticky,” he indicated. “I think one of the kids has spilt coke on it.”

He looked up when he didn’t get a reply, and the frown deepened, “What?”

Camille was just smiling, and Catherine was trying to find a compliment that wouldn’t embarrass him. Dwayne was actually the first one to speak.

“Hey Chief, could you teach me how to play?”

“You want to learn to play the piano?” Richard asked incredulously.

“Women love guys who can play an instrument! If I could play like you I could have any woman on this island I wanted!”

Richard opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again before eventually just shaking his head and telling Dwayne, “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

When his gaze landed on her, his frown was back, and Catherine knew he’d spotted the tears, “Are you ok?” He asked, seemingly quite concerned. “I can fix the sticky key with a cloth, warm water and washing up liquid if you’re worried…”

“No, Richard, I…” she hesitated, and settled with, “You play very well,” before bustling off into the kitchen to prevent her instinct to hug him from overwhelming her.

When she’d stopped being an old, sentimental woman, she returned to the bar to find Camille had physically shoved Richard along the piano stool and was now perched on there with him, listening attentively to something he was explaining.

Dwayne and Fidel had sat on stools at the bar, apparently after another beer each. Dwayne was grumbling, “Oh so she can have a lesson!”

“Well it is quite cosy on that piano stool Dwayne, I think most men would rather share it with Camille than you,” Fidel teased.

Dwayne grumbled into his beer, but was clearly entertained by the antics of his senior officers. Catherine was curious, “He’s teaching her the piano?” she asked for confirmation.

Fidel and Dwayne shared a smirk, and Fidel then explained what Catherine had missed in the ten minutes she was gone, “She started badgering him the second you left. Something about couldn’t he teach her something, because she’d always wanted to learn as a child but hadn’t gotten the chance. He conceded, he knows when she isn’t going to let something drop.”

Catherine huffed, more than a little annoyed. “Never got the chance!” she said, glaring at her daughter – who was too engrossed in plucking out some melody on the keyboard to notice. “I had to work two jobs to save up enough money to send her for lessons when she was seven, and she quit after one month! Complained her teacher smelled like cabbage. And now she’s all pity me, I didn’t get to learn as a child! I should go over there and…”

“No!” cried both the boys, preventing her from actually finishing her sentence. They were half standing, as if they had both considered physically restraining her in order to prevent her interrupting the impromptu piano lesson occurring in the corner of _her_ bar. She looked at them, one eyebrow raised. They both sank back on to their stools a little sheepish. They shared another look, and then came to the decision to share something with her.

“It’s just, they’ve been getting on so much better since he got back from London,” Fidel began to explain. “They still bicker but there’s never any malice behind it.”

“He’s a lot more relaxed and our lives are easier because of it, so we’d appreciate it if you didn’t do anything to jeopardise that!” Dwayne continued.

Catherine took a moment to observe her daughter and Richard, he did seem quite relaxed given Camille’s proximity. Didn’t he normally get flustered under such circumstances? And he was smiling to, and she was there grinning back and he was actually looking at her, not the floor.

“Do you think that they...?” She left the question unfinished, certain the boys would be able to fill in the blank. What she didn’t expect was Fidel’s vehement “No!” and Dwayne’s nearly triumphant sounding “Defiantly!” This difference in opinion caused a brief staring match between the two men, but Dwayne backed down grumbling and allowed Fidel to answer.

“Though Dwayne thinks that Camille and the Inspector’s relationship may now be…” Fidel paused, clearly searching for a delicate way to put the obvious. “Intimate, I don’t think he’d break the rules like that. You know I think they’ll have some difficult decisions to make in the future, which is another reason maybe we should let them have these moments. Before things get complicated.”

Continuing her study of the two, Catherine couldn’t help but agree with Fidel’s conclusions. She could detect the longing in the way he watched her daughter as she pushed her hair out of her face and made another attempt at the piano scale he was teaching her. He had the look of a man who wanted something he couldn’t have. Camille succeeded in completing three scales in a row correctly, and shot Richard one of her more dazzling smiles, which he couldn’t help returning. Catherine’s heart ached a little, she couldn’t help but think this all might end in heartbreak. In which case Fidel was right, they should be allowed this time at the very least.

He was shutting the piano lid now, despite her daughter’s protests, and the two of them joined them at the bar. “Are you sure you haven’t played before?” Richard asked Camille, looking a little bothered.

“No, why?” She replied, though she shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. This was one of the tells Catherine had used when Camille had been a child. Her daughter shot her a sidelong glance, clearly trying to assess her mother’s mood. Did she hope Catherine would have forgotten those piano lessons?

“Well, it’s just most people when they start they hold their palms level with their fingers, you know, but you instinctively had them in the right position,” he demonstrated this with a frown on his face, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“Natural talent?” Camille tried, clearly desperate not to be caught out. Certainly desperate enough to shoot Catherine a quick pleading look that Catherine returned with a single raised eyebrow.

Richard considered this statement for a moment, then shrugged and said “Guess so.”

Catherine smiled. Well if he was willing to accept that rubbish, he really must love her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, Richard was playing something by the composer Einaudi, perhaps Le Onde or Bella notte. If anyone picked something different in their head, please comment and let me know!


	2. Piano Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn’t supposed to be a second chapter, but after a conversation with katedf this short little thing demanded to be written. I’ve only just gotten round to writing it though, work keeping me busy!

“Yes but how do I _unsubscribe_ from one of them?” He asked, clearly annoyed. Camille had just signed up to every podcast listed on the Radio Four website, after he’d spent an evening feeling a bit melancholy and homesick and complaining about things he missed. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just delete the ones he wasn’t interested in, why he had to unsubscribe, and she’d told him as much before explaining where he could subscribe to other podcasts more to his liking.

“Which one is it you object to so strongly that you must _unsubscribe_ then?” She asked curiously, as she took the device out of his hands and went to the relevant site.

“The Archers,” he said, not expanding on why he disliked it so.

She looked up quickly, “But The Archers is amazing!”

He looked at her incredulously, “ _You’ve_ been listing to The Archers? Camille it’s complete drivel.”

“I listened to some of them when I was setting it up. I mean it’s all this sex and scandal interwoven with dairy farming and trips to the pub!” She grinned. “It was by far the best thing I listened to. I mean I didn’t understand a word of that I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue programme you seem to like so much.”

“Well most of that is word play and puns so I can excuse that since English isn’t your first language, but the liking The Archers thing, I may have to disown you,” He told her, perfectly seriously.

She laughed, leading him across the bar and as she did so towards the piano. He seemed to cotton on and slowed down.

“You know, you could _pay_ to get lessons,” he said, scowling.

“Well I’ll do you a trade. I’ll unsubscribe you from The Archers if you teach me something else. And no more scales! I want to learn something proper!”

“Scales are ‘proper’ as you so elegantly put it!” He seemed a little put out by her lack of appreciation for his previous lesson, which was not what she intended.

“Sorry, I meant I’d just like to be able to play something people could recognise that’s all,” she attempted to placate him.

“I haven’t even taught you any chords yet! It’ll be very difficult to pick something out that has no chords and where the fingering isn’t too difficult…”

She couldn’t help herself, she snorted with laughter. He gave her a confused look and asked “What?”

“Sorry it’s just,” now she couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Fingering!”

He huffed and rolled her eyes, which only made her giggle harder. “Oh for goodness sake, Camille, you’re being childish and, and smutty!”

She shouldn’t laugh at how uncomfortable he was, she really shouldn’t, but it _was_ funny. He sat at a table, apparently to wait out her sudden fit of hysterics. The laughing had gotten loud enough that it had attracted her mother’s attention, who breezed over from the bar, collecting empties on the way.

“What is she laughing at?” Catherine was forced to ask Richard, since Camille was busy wiping tears from her eyes and trying to remember to draw breath when she could.

“Well she was blackmailing me into another piano lesson but apparently the word ‘fingering’ proved somehow overwhelming,” he explained in a long-suffering tone.

Catherine let out a small little laugh herself, “Oh I’m afraid she inherited her filthy mind from me. I had exactly the same reaction when I went to pick her up from her lessons and her teacher told me how well her fingering was coming along.” Camille abruptly stopped laughing. “Of course I could hardly explain to her as a child just what I found so funny!”

The she breezed off back to the bar, a small smile on her face. She knew what she’d done was a little bit evil, but she actually calculated it might work to shift things on just a little bit further.

Camille was left looking at Richard mutely, awaiting her fate. He was still contemplating her mother’s _kind_ revelation, and she really wasn’t sure how he would react.

“But you definitely said you’d never had lessons before, didn’t you?” He asked, apparently willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Well I only had them for a month,” she tried as an excuse. “And it was a long time ago, and, well yes I did.” She admitted eventually. “But I thought it’d be nice to have you teach me something.” She stared at the floor, embarrassed by being caught out.

“Well you could have just asked,” he said, standing up and lifting the lid on the piano and sitting down. “Now I’m just going to use your little indiscretion to my advantage and say you have to learn by my rules. So, first off, chords. But delete that bloody subscription to The Archers first.”

Camille did as she was told.


	3. In Tune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was never supposed to have a 3rd chapter but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. And it fits in here better rather than writing it and putting it into Unresolved. It’s quite nice to write things from Catherine’s prospective as well.

Over the summer months, the music played by her cousin had proved very popular. It didn’t attract the usual crowd, the more reserved of the British holidaymakers seemed to be the ones to enjoy it and she suddenly found she was no longer just making tea for Richard. Though they sat there quietly enjoying the music and clapping politely at the end of a performance, the rest of her clientele were there normal cheeky selves – shouting out requests and joining in the singing with gusto on occasion. The two sets of people seemed to rub along quite well though, to her surprise. Not unlike how Camille and her boss somehow managed. It also surprised Catherine that Richard would turn up on those nights voluntarily, whether joined by her daughter or not. She supposed now his ‘secret’ was out – that he didn’t hate _all_ music – there was no need for him to pretend to be grumpy all the time. Of course his presence in the bar did not mean he was always being sociable – he quite often found himself a table at the back and well out of the way and she had failed completely to get him to ever play anything in front of an audience than consisted of more than just his colleagues.

As a consequence of their popularity, Catherine had decided not to end her weekly live music nights once her cousin had left the island to return to Paris. There was plenty of musical talent on Saint Marie, though not all of it was the same relaxed style she was hoping to repeat. Tonight, for example, Catherine had allowed her sentimentality to get the better of her. Two boys – well, they were 18 so she supposed they were men really, but to her they still seemed like boys – had come in asking for the chance to play their acoustic guitars and perform songs on their own composition. They seemed so desperate for a chance that Catherine had conceded, though she was only allowing them an hour of floor time. If they proved good enough that could be extended.

Judging from the noises currently coming from the corner of her bar that seemed unlikely to happen. She cringed and gave a little sigh. Camille was coming tonight and would probably be trailed by Richard. The two of them now spent a couple of hours each Saturday morning up at the school music room since Catherine had had to return the piano. She didn’t think they got up to anything else though. She liked to think that the day that happened, she would know instantly, as Camille would somehow succeed in instantly turning Richard into a more relaxed, affectionate person. That, however, was very likely to be wishful thinking.

And here they were, Richard looking rather reluctant. Clearly Camille had told him who would be performing this evening.

“Tea?” She called out, and he nodded and mumbled a thank you. She bustled off into the kitchen to get everything sorted, knowing Camille would serve herself.

When she returned, Richard was grimacing whilst her daughter was looking at him with an amused yet affectionate look. “Richard isn’t sure about your choice of musicians for the evening, _Maman,_ ” Camille explained.

“Oh well, they are young, they have to start somewhere!” She said lightly.

“As admirable as nurturing young talent is, Catherine, I feel the place where they start out should be isolated and extremely well sound-proofed.” Catherine had to try not to smile at his caustic response, though Camille did so openly. She knew her daughter appreciated his sense of humour, and sometimes she wondered how many of Richard’s witty comments and comebacks were purely for Camille’s benefit.

“Oh don’t be so grumpy,” she replied, a comment that always riled him a little. Rather than stay and enjoy his response, she chose to go back to the bar. Perhaps she would bring him something stronger than tea to help get him through the evening a little later.

Less than five minutes later though, Catherine heard a rather irate voice shout, “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE!” She looked up so see Richard stalk across the bar and forcibly remove the guitar from one of the boys. She thought the man may well have finally snapped and was planning on destroying the instrument – and so it seemed did Camille who had hurried after Richard saying things in a calming tone.  

It surprised both of them when he simply sat down and began to - well Catherine assumed it was tuning the instrument. Camille, realising she was not going to have to talk Richard down, slowly sat in the chair opposite him and watched with a certain level of interest. He had absolute concentration for the task at hand, working methodically for a few minutes. To Catherine, some of the noises the guitar made were not much more pleasant than what she had heard before, but she was willing to bet Richard was making an improvement anyway.

Seemingly satisfied with the tuning, Richard apparently decided to best way to give it a final check would naturally be to play the instrument. And yes, he was good at it, playing what sounded like it was the introduction to something. Catherine noticed Camille lean forward in her seat, and found herself taking a few steps towards them both in anticipation… and then he simply stopped playing.

Camille had sat back suddenly in surprise, a move Richard didn’t fail to notice, “What?” he asked.

“Oh, I just, I thought you were going to sing…” The look she received in response said everything anybody needed to know about how Richard Poole felt about singing. “Yes, well, now I think about it I suppose that was a bit stupid.” Catherine found herself smiling, she too had almost expected him to burst into song. A man of his apparent musical talents probably _could_ sing as well.

Choosing to continue to ignore Camille’s comment, Richard instead turned to the two young men. “Right,” he said in what Catherine imagined he thought of as his authoritative ‘Inspector’ voice. “If I ever hear you abusing an instrument like that again I will find a way to arrest you under the Public Order Act. Keep the bloody thing in tune.”

He promptly turned around and went back to his tea. Camille and Catherine shared an amused look, before her daughter followed him back. Catherine didn’t move too far from them, she was really quite interested in the conversation she thought may now follow.

“So, you can play the guitar as well…”

“Everyone learnt when I was at University, it was practically mandatory,” he explained as he poured himself another cup of tea.  

“But you don’t sing?” She asked teasingly.

“Only in the shower,” it was an offhand comment, one Catherine thought was a joke rather than actually true. Her daughter had other ideas though.

“I’d like to see that.” Richard choked on his tea and coloured rapidly. Catherine had to smile at her daughter’s deliberately coquettish response, perhaps Camille was beginning to lose her patience with the Englishman and was willing to be a bit more obvious with her attentions.

Richard was still unable to speak, so Camille continued, “You know learning the guitar might be nice as well…”

“One instrument at a time!” He responded firmly. To Catherine’s surprise Camille seemed pretty willing to acquiesce to that.

“I suppose that’s fair.” Then, after a pause, she continued with exaggerated casualness, “You know, perhaps you should think about what I could teach you…”

Richard blushed again.

 

 


	4. An Introduction to Body Language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fic that doesn’t ends, yes it goes on and on my friend, some girl start writing it not knowing what it was and she’ll continue writing it forever just because…

Catherine knew exactly what was coming when Fidel and Dwayne hurried into her bar, looking mildly harassed, and hastily ordered beers. A few moments later her suspicions were confirmed when the irate voice of Richard Poole, and the equally annoyed tones of her dear daughter, reached her ears.

Richard stopped in the doorway, tension evident in his body, and blocked it so Camille couldn’t enter just yet. Catherine assumed he had a desire to leave the fight outside, which she would prefer as well. She, Dwayne and Fidel were perfectly used to the way Richard and Camille chose to communicate – but to her other patrons it probably sounded like they were having genuine arguments all of the time. Only those that knew them well could spot the affection that simmered behind the anger.

“For that _LAST TIME_ Camille, she was not,” The Inspector announced firmly, perhaps hoping her daughter would drop the subject. A vain hope, Catherine was certain.

Camille just glared and spat back, “Yes, she was, and you were flirting back!”

Richard was clearly very conscious of the fact that people were watching them with barely disguised interest, though judging by the nervous glance he shot in her direction Catherine had to conclude it was _her_ he was most nervous of. Well, he was right on that front, she didn’t like anyone who upset her daughter. Though Catherine was also perfectly aware that Camille could flare up at him when he was also being perfectly reasonable – it was just the way she was. Richard gestured with his head and they moved off further onto the patio to continue their fight in angry whispers. Catherine couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, as she sorely wanted to know what was going on. Luckily she had two perfectly willing gossips sitting in front of her.

“God, they have been like that all the way back from _the other side of the island_!” Dwayne grumbled without any prompting from Catherine.

“I thought at one point she was going to chuck him out of the Defender!” Fidel added, looking a little shell shocked by the whole experience.

“So what’s all this about flirting then? I didn’t think Richard even knew the meaning of the word. Eye contact with women isn’t in his repertoire most of them time. He cannot seriously have been flirting?”

Dwayne and Fidel shared one of their looks, and Dwayne took up the tale, “We were interviewing some witnesses and one of them was flirting pretty heavily with the Chief, though he acts like he was oblivious to it. No man could not notice a woman _that_ hot was flirting with them.”

Fidel shook his head, disagreeing, “No, Dwayne, that is _exactly_ why he wouldn’t think she was flirting with him.” Catherine was inclined to agree, Richard lacked confidence in that area and even the most unsubtle hints would go unnoticed because of it.

It didn’t surprise Catherine entirely that a woman would with flirt with Richard, but they hadn’t answered the question she was _really_ interested in, “Yes, but did he, as Camille seems to think, flirt back?”

“He did a bit,” Fidel admitted. “But I really don’t think it was _intentional_.”

“Yeah,” Dwayne agreed. “It seems if he doesn’t think about it he can actually be quite charming.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow at Dwayne’s description of his boss, and Fidel was staring at him in surprise as well. “In a way that _women_ like,” Dwayne added hastily. Catherine smiled, she had known what he meant really but it was too tempting to let the comment just pass…

She leaned over the bar to try and catch sight of them two of them, see if they were still fighting. They’d actually sat down so presumably things were a bit calmer and it would be safe to bring Richard out his tea.

“I think you need to brush up on your body language skills,” Camille was saying as Catherine set down the tea things. Her daughter seemed much more relaxed, whilst Richard was looking a little put out. Catherine assumed he had given in and admitted Camille was right in order to end the argument. There was a time he would never have done such of a thing, but more recently he seemed willing to concede the odd point in order to make Camille happy.

“I already told you, I don’t speak body language at all, so there aren’t any skills to brush up on!”

“Well then that is something _I_ can teach _you_!” She said happily. “And lesson one can be how to tell if somebody is flirting with you!” Catherine, now she was out on the veranda, was taking the opportunity to collect some glasses. It had to be done and it was entirely a coincidence that it enabled her to continue listen to the conversation.

“Is there a syllabus?” He asked sarcastically, and received a warning look from Camille. With a sigh, he retrieved his notebook and pen.

“Oh Richard, why can’t you take it seriously?” He daughter asked, a little wounded by what she interpreted to be him mocking her.

“I am!” He protested. “If I wasn’t taking notes you’d know I wasn’t taking it seriously!”

“Oh,” Camille conceded. “Okay then…”

Catherine had run out of glasses (and thus excuses to stay outside) so somewhat reluctantly returned to the boys at the bar. They both gave her expectant looks.

“She is currently teaching him how to recognise when somebody is flirting with you,” she told them.

“God, I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” Dwayne said. Neither he nor Fidel made a move to join the detectives though. Perhaps they were thinking what Catherine was, that Richard might, under Camille’s instruction, realise something quite significant.

 

* * *

 

 

Three quarters of an hour passed before the two of them moved into the bar, Richard ever polite bringing his now empty tea things with him. Catherine accepted them off him with a small smile, studying his face carefully to see if anything might have sunk in since she last saw him.

“Lesson two can be how to flirt back, if you like,” Camille suggested cheekily, but he just gave her a quelling look.

“Yeah, I’m not entirely convinced you haven’t made half of this stuff up yet,” he huffed, squinting down at the list he had made during their conversation.

“Why on earth would you think I made it up?”

“Well for one thing,” he said, flicking the notepad to indicate the list. “You do half of these things with me!”

“Yes,” She said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Yes I do.”

The reality of Camille’s statement, probably one of the boldest she had made to date regarding her intentions towards Richard, took a few moments to sink it. When it did, he blushed, cleared his throat and announced suddenly, “Um, yes, anyway, got to go – I, um, you know, said I’d call my Mum. See you later.” He turned on his heel and walked straight out of the bar, before bumbling back in to retrieve the briefcase he had left behind.

“Richard!” Camille called uselessly to his retreating form.

“Phone call. Mum. Bye!” He just shouted back. Camille stared despondently at the bar. Dwayne and Fidel seemed to silently agree they should leave her and Camille alone for a few moments.

“It’s only because he thinks you’re too good for him,” Catherine told her daughter gently. Then added, “It’s a topic we would actually agree on.”

“ _Maman!”_ She cried indignantly, which was actually exactly what Catherine had been aiming for. She would always prefer her daughter angry to depressed. “That is not true! I’ll just have to find a way to show him that!” Camille then too marched out of the bar, though Catherine doubted it would be straight after Richard. Camille could be spontaneous, but she thought she detected a certain level of insecurity still – a belief that deep down perhaps Richard didn’t actually care for her the way she wished.

Well, if Camille couldn’t find a way to convince him, perhaps Catherine could find a way to give them another little nudge. . . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the note at the start of this chapter, I only have one more planned!


End file.
